In Holy Matrimony
by Calicocats45
Summary: It's been five years since Emily and Alison have seen each other. Emily lives in California with Paige. Alison is living in New York with Spencer. When a wedding brings them back together, emotions that have been suppressed for years will resurface, and sparks will fly. Canon divergence post 6A.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thanks so much to AllStarsGirl for the prompt! I'm sorry it took so long, and I hope you enjoy it because I'm having a lot of fun writing it! Follows/Favourites/Reviews are always appreciated, and thanks for reading :)**

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 _You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of:_

 _Michael Montgomery_

 _and_

 _Mona Vanderwaal_

 _on Wednesday, June 4th at four o'clock._

 _27 West Avenue, followed by a reception._

Alison traced her gaze slowly for the umpteenth time that day over the beautiful script. Mona's familiarly loopy and exquisite handwriting stretched across the small pink invitation, which was otherwise empty save for an R.S.V.P. and black flowery designs bordering the card. The exquisite invitation was so very much Mona's style that Alison swore she could detect a hint of the aromatic perfume the small brunette had worn in high school adorning the card. She shoved that intrusive thought out of her mind as quickly as it came; thinking about her unique and rather traumatic youth was hardly ever a pleasant experience for Alison. High school was a time in which she was either viciously tormenting poor, undeserving peers or being stalked by her best friend who was later revealed to be her older sister, Charlotte. _Unique,_ Alison mused silently, now that was a way to describe her childhood.

"You still can't believe she invited you?"

Alison looked up to see the tall, slim figure of Spencer leaning against her doorframe. The brunette seemed to be studying her curiously, and Alison wondered how long she'd been there.

"We haven't spoken since high school," Alison deadpanned.

Spencer made her way into the blonde's room without invitation and sat down on Alison's bed beside her, sweeping her gaze briefly over the card Alison still held in hand. The two had been roommates for just over two years, a fact that would have left their younger selves shocked and incredulous, though both could admit now that it wasn't the worst idea they'd ever had. While their strong-wills and clashing personalities left them arguing rather often, they had managed to divide basic chores between them and with their work schedules so different, they were hardly home simultaneously often enough to argue. Their only lingering argument nowadays was Spencer's insistence to create a chore wheel, which Alison had soon decided was definitely _not_ happening.

"Maybe this is her attempt at a peace offering," Spencer suggested as Alison set her invitation down on the nightstand beside her bed.

Alison raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Or maybe Aria slipped Mike a 20 to convince her to invite me,"

Spencer chuckled, murmuring an amused "probably," as a response. There was a beat of comfortable, reminiscent silence between them before Alison stood up from the bed.

"I'm gonna order in, unless you want to cook?" It was a pointless offer; Alison knew the tall brunette was hardly a wizard in the kitchen, unless the dish was coffee designed to give you unwavering energy for a week, of course. Honestly, Alison had no idea how Spencer drank that stuff.

Spencer waved her hand dismissively. "Order away."

Alison was almost out of her bedroom door when Spencer's voice sounded again.

"You know she'll be there too, right?"

Alison turned back around to face her roommate, folding her arms across her chest as she stood stiffly in the doorway. Spencer's voice had become suddenly serious, far different from the usual sardonic tone her words carried. She gazed curiously up at Alison, still seated atop the blonde's bed.

"Who, Spencer?" Alison knew who. _Of course_ Alison knew who. But, there it was; that tone of voice which once had made Alison the Queen of Rosewood but was now reserved for misbehaving students and stubborn parents.

Spencer refrained from rolling her eyes as she spoke. "Emily."

It was almost unbelievable, the haste with which Alison could snap back to her teenage ways. Though she had long grown out of her high school pettiness, the swimmer she'd once had a relationship with that she wasn't entirely sure how to describe managed to evoke feelings she'd long left buried. However, that was nearly five years ago, and things were different now. She had everything she needed; regular contact with her best friends, a new job as a teacher, a quaint but homely apartment, and-

"Mommy!" The blonde's iciness evaporated as her small, four year-old lookalike ran towards her, hugging her legs from behind.

Alison turned to look at her daughter, Lily. As was often pointed out to her, the young girl really did resemble Alison. She had the teacher's wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and fair skin. Dressed in a purple and white flowery dress, Alison was more than grateful to notice that she bore little, if any resemblance to her father.

"Hey sweetheart!" Alison cooed, crouching down to be at eye-level with her daughter. Alison's cold, Queen of Rosewood-self never failed to vanish when her daughter was around. Lily made Alison her best self, and after her dreary first year out of high school, having a child had given her a new, better worldview. Lily had truly been the best thing to ever happen to her.

Alison frowned upon noticing that her daughter's shoulder-length golden hair was slightly matted with water. "How was the park?" she asked when she saw Aria walking into the apartment behind Lily, who had left the door ajar in her haste to get home.

"Great," Aria's hair was nearly dripping with rainwater, much wetter than Lily's. "Until it rained, that is."

Lily ran off into Alison's room to greet her Auntie Spencer. Technically, neither Aria, Spencer, nor Hanna were her aunts, but she wanted so badly for her daughter to have a family besides just her mother that she'd made her three best friends her official unofficial aunts. Lily wasn't old enough to consider otherwise, and besides, the four of them were like family anyways.

Alison stood up, facing Aria who was setting Lily's pink and purple umbrella down on the counter.

"Thanks for watching her today," Alison smiled. She couldn't even begin to describe her gratitude towards her friends. They had all grown so much as people since the days they were being stalked and tormented by Charlotte. When Alison had found out about her pregnancy, they had all been so incredibly supportive. Alison wasn't sure what she'd have done without them.

"We had fun," Aria smiled back, despite her wet clothes and hair. "Besides, it's good practice."

Aria placed a hand over her belly, which had grown consistently rounder over the past few months. She and Ezra had gotten engaged only a month ago, and though her unborn baby had been a surprise to both of them, Ezra had been thrilled and within three months had been filling his and Aria's apartment with more baby supplies than the child could possibly ever need. Alison had been especially glad to hear the news; she loved having someone else to talk to who could understand what she'd experienced in pregnancy and, soon, motherhood.

"You should stay for dinner," Alison suggested. "We're having Chinese."

"I can't," Aria chuckled. "Ezra insists that we have to pick a colour for the baby's room tonight."

Alison smiled warmly at the thought of the slightly overbearing, but well-intentioned soon-to-be-father that was Ezra. Warmth quickly became sadness, however, and a curiosity that never went away about what it would be like to share parenthood with someone you loved. It was a sort of lingering regret, not being able to give her daughter a second parent. Lily's father had been some low-life one night stand she'd met at a bar on a particularly drunken night. She couldn't even remember his name much less consider letting him into her daughter's life. She'd been on a handful of dates since Lily's birth, but had never met a person she deemed worthy of meeting her daughter. Besides, she didn't want to get Lily's hopes up with the thought of a second parent only to have things not work out.

Alison cleared her mind and nodded, politely seeing Aria out, though not before setting a date to buy dresses for the wedding. If Alison was going to have to see Emily there, she was going to look _stunning._

Shutting the door behind her, Alison made her way over to the phone, picking it up to dial before noticing the small framed picture next to her landline. It was from high school, the only picture she'd kept from that time, and also the only picture she'd kept with Emily in it. It depicted the five of them at the beach, smiling and looking as carefree as preteens should. Preteens that weren't being stalked or constantly having their lives threatened, anyways. Alison had never been able to bring herself to leave the picture behind at her father's house in Rosewood; she'd wanted at least one good memory of her teenage years.

Her gaze lingered on Emily, whose hair was tied back save for a stray wavy lock which framed the left side of her face. She couldn't believe it had been five years since she'd last seen or heard the brunette. Though Spencer, Aria, and Hanna all kept in regular contact with her and occasionally even flew out for visits, Alison couldn't bring herself to do so. It had simply been too much having to watch Emily walk away with Paige, flying out to California and leaving Alison behind. She'd spent the year up until her daughter was born in a slump, dejectedly wondering what could have been if she'd been honest about her feelings with Emily from the start, and dejectedly wondering if the swimmer was better off without her. Besides, as Alison had once been told by Caleb, she was a tornado. People only knew her from what she left behind, because she destroyed everything she touched. Loving Emily couldn't have ever worked out, because she'd have destroyed her too. Those thoughts were the only thing keeping Alison from calling Emily and desperately spilling her real feelings to her. That, and a lot of drinking and sex with strangers.

She was past it now, though. All of it. She had Lily, and she had her friends, and she was almost certain that Charlotte's new doctor had been hitting on her recently so it wasn't like she couldn't have a dating life if she wanted one. She didn't need Emily, and over time, that ache in her chest had dissipated. That hole of rejection filled by the new light in her life, her daughter. Alison put down the picture she hadn't even noticed she'd picked up, at turned her attention to ordering their meal for the night.

Wednesday rolled around far quicker than Alison would have liked. With her last class of the day ending at around 2:30 and Lily having been taken to her babysitter, Alison had been left with just about an hour to get ready. It had been miraculous, but she'd done it. Her makeup had been fixed to her satisfaction; not too much, but enough to highlight her bright cheeks, porcelain skin, and bright blue eyes. Her hair draped over her shoulders and back in loose curls, and after a lengthy shopping spree with Aria, she'd settled on the strapless pink dress she wore now, satisfied with the way it showcased her curves.

She carpooled there only with Spencer; Aria having driven with Ezra and Hanna catching a cab after a late flight in from her current residence in Paris. They drove mostly in silence aside from the soft hum of the radio. Alison hardly felt in the mood for talking, and hoped to just get the event over with as quickly as possible. Part of her knew that this was a bad idea, that she shouldn't have gone, that she should have just made up some excuse and been done with it. Yet there was also some part of her, some unidentifiable part that was willing her to go, and apparently that part of her had one out because the two of them had just pulled into the parking lot of the grand church.

To say that the place was magnificent was a giant understatement. If one thought that the outside was vast and gorgeous, they'd be absolutely stunned by the inside. Brilliant golden chandeliers draped overhead from an incredibly high rising ceiling, decorated with elegant patterning. Several benches, far more than were probably necessary were positioned in two neat columns, facing the platform only two small steps off of the floor atop which the marriage would take place. The flooring was well-polished laminate, save for the white and gold decorated carpet between the two columns of seats and up the two steps to the platform. Bouquets of flowers could be seen in every direction amongst potted plants, and the windows were decorated with gorgeous art depicting angels and stories of the bible Alison recognized from her childhood.

The wedding itself was surprisingly uneventful. The church had filled with a surprising amount of people; apparently Mona and Mike had far more friends than anticipated. With the quickness of people filing in and taking their seats, Alison, who sat near the front with Spencer, Aria, and Hanna, she'd never actually seen Emily come in and take her seat. She'd watched the marriage take place with a sort of melancholy interest. Though it gave her a reminder of her own loneliness, she was glad to see Mona look so happy. One of Alison's biggest regrets was the way she treated Mona in high school; all of the relentless name calling and verbal assaults which had eventually lead to The A Game which Alison often figured she deserved. Even if they didn't remain friends or even really acquaintances after high school, it made Alison happy to know that the girl who had been so undeserving of Alison's tormenting had finally reached a good and stable place in her life.

Following the wedding had been the reception, which required Alison to be more social, much to her dismay. She mostly stuck by the food table, occasionally plucking a strawberry from the display of fruits and dipping it in the chocolate fountain. The hall was just as visibly stunning as the church, full of elegant designs and brilliant architecture, all so very _Mona._ Alison smiled to herself; the smaller girl always had been a bit over-the-top.

Alison was quickly growing bored. Her friends had gone off to socialize, but Alison had apparently become uncharacteristically introverted since entering the hall. She recognized the majority of the guests as being people from Rosewood High, and clearly they recognized her, because not once had they approached her for any sort of friendly small-talk. Her thoughts wandered and she found herself missing her daughter. What was Lily up to? Was she having fun? Did she get along well with the other kids the babysitter, Mary, took care of? Alison shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. She was supposed to be having fun, but all she really wanted to do was go home.

Alison retrieved her cell phone from the small purse she had slung over her shoulder, considering calling the babysitter to check in. She entered her passcode before shutting the phone back off, deciding against it on the grounds that she was not going to be one of those obsessive parents who don't know how to let go. With a small, slightly dramatic sigh she returned the phone to her black leather purse and looked up to spot Spencer across the hall, engaged in conversation with a boy who looked somewhat familiar, but not enough so that she could recall his name. Deciding that she'd just about had enough of weddings for one night, she decided it was about time to inquire exactly when was an appropriate time to leave a reception.

She'd managed only two steps in the general direction of the taller brunette, who really wasn't that much taller now that Alison had heels on, when a painfully familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Alison?"

Alison's first instinct was to run. Alison's first _realistic_ instinct was to keep walking as if she hadn't heard the voice, grab Spencer, and leave without another thought. Yet, her feet felt as if they were rooted to the white tile floor of the hall, and she spent a good ten seconds simply standing there.

Finally she turned around, body stiff. Her breath hitched slightly at the sight of the brunette she had such intricate history with. Emily looked as stunning as ever; dark hair perfectly straightened draped over her back, uncovered by a dark blue dress that was slightly more revealing than Alison had anticipated. In flats, the brunette was just about eye level with a suddenly anxious Alison, though her expression was entirely unreadable while Alison figured she was probably an open book to the brunette woman who'd once known her so well.

Alison had imagined just about every possible scenario in which she'd meet Emily again. Some resulted in friendship, others in heartbreak, and Alison's personal favourites, with them driving happily off into the sunset. She'd rehearsed about a million greetings and one-liners in her head that she promised she'd use the first time she saw Emily again, yet now, standing before the beautiful woman, Alison's mind was blank and her throat was like a desert.

As she locked eyes with Emily, the only thing she could force out was a sheepish, uncertain "Hi."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to finish, but I'm finally satisfied with how it turned out. Thanks again to AllStarsGirl for the prompt! Follows, favourites and reviews are always appreciated :)**

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Blue eyes bore into brown and for several long moments neither woman spoke. Alison's walls went up the moment she turned to face the taller brunette; walls that reminded the blonde a bit too much of her high school days. Ironically enough, in high school when her walls had been up every hour of every day, Emily had been the one person with whom she could completely let those walls fall.

How things could change over the span of 5 years.

"So," Emily began. She looked uncertain as she spoke to Alison, but Emily had long lost the constant sense of general unease she'd had in the days before A. It was a character growth Alison hadn't gotten to witness in person; one of many moments she regretted missing because of her disappearance.

"How have you been?" Emily asked finally, seeming to settle on the vaguest possible question.

Alison figured it was the most terribly worded thing Emily could have asked, and she probably could have given a hundred bitter answers. After all, Emily choosing Paige even after all they'd been through had been what caused Alison's downward spiral into spending her nights at bars and in the bedsheets of whatever asshole bought her just a few too many shots.

"Fine," Alison answered coolly. Emily looked slightly uncomfortable at being on the receiving end of Alison's Queen Bee demeanor. She toyed a bit with the small gold bracelet around her wrist, and Alison found herself wondering whether or not the brunette had kept the purple one Alison had given her all those years ago.

"How's California?"

She shouldn't have asked that. She should have just excused herself, found Spencer, and left. The last thing Alison wanted to hear about was Emily's perfect life on the beach with Paige. However, the question was already out there and, besides, it had been five years. Alison had moved on and she wasn't about to despair over some wedding-party small talk.

"Oh, it's nice." Emily seemed surprised by the question; perhaps she too had expected the blonde to end their conversation as quickly as possible. "I'm coaching the local high school swim team."

The brunette had at least had the decency not to mention Paige, Alison thought. When Alison responded with nothing but a nod, the familiarly tense silence settled between them again. She hated how difficult it was to even talk to the woman who had once been the only calm voice in the storm of threats and hurt that had been her life. She hated that every muscle in her body was ready to flee from the brunette she'd fallen so deeply in love with as a teenager. Mostly, though, she hated that despite how horrible Emily had made her feel, some part of her still didn't want their conversation to end.

"I hear you have a daughter. Lily, right?"

When Emily spoke again, Alison dared to think that perhaps the brunette was mirroring her messy and conflicted emotions. Perhaps Emily too felt that inexplicable draw, the desire to continue what could qualify as the world's most uncomfortable conversation just to be in the company of one another. The hopeful thought lasted a total of five meager seconds in her brain before it was shoved out. Replaced by a cynicism she'd had since an early age which reminded her that, as Spencer always so eloquently put it, "hope breeds eternal misery". Emily had Paige, a girlfriend she loved. There was no inexplicable tie between them, no unseen force pulling them together despite themselves. There was only Alison dwelling on the feelings Emily had, most likely, laid to rest the moment she'd driven off with Paige.

"Yes, I do." Alison's walls were higher than ever. She didn't owe Emily anything. The brunette had made her choice five years ago, and Alison had been left with all of the pain from their relationship while Emily got to live blissfully in California with Paige. Though, come to think of it, she and Emily had never really had a _relationship_. Aside from that one incredible night with Emily before everything went to hell and Alison had ended up in prison, their relationship had been just one long, passionate, _almost_.

Emily seemed uncertain of how to continue the conversation given Alison's curt answer, but the blonde was hardly interested in elaborating upon the life she'd built with Lily. The life that Emily had already chosen not to have with her. She'd be damned if she was going to let the last pure part of her life be tainted by the pain of past heartbreak. Casting a glance past Emily, who was no longer making any sort of eye contact with Alison and seemingly finding the floor to be of sudden interest, she spotted Spencer making their way towards them.

"Hey Em," she greeted politely, which Emily returned with a smile. "Ali, I think we'd better head out and pick up Lily."

Alison nodded, feeling relief flood her body at the excuse to escape the torturous conversation. She glanced at Emily, who spoke once more before they could leave.

"I'm in town for a few more days. Maybe we could get drinks and catch up?"

Alison found herself wondering exactly what was keeping the taller brunette in New York. She'd figured that Emily would be eager to get back to her perfect life in California, and it wasn't like there was anything to keep her in New York anyways if she'd already found work there. She knew Hanna was sticking around for a bit so that she and Caleb could catch up with her, Spencer, and Aria, but she hardly thought that Emily would be interested in that.

"Maybe," Alison settled on, before following Spencer out of the hall without daring to look back.

Alison wrapped her arms around herself as they stepped out into the cool evening air and walked in silence through the parking lot. It was nearly summer, and surely it should be warmer than it was, yet the gentle breeze was leaving goosebumps upon her arms and made her regret leaving her jacket at home.

"We don't have to pick Lily up until eight," Alison remarked, casting an amused glance at Spencer. "It's not even seven-thirty."

"It's a thirty minute drive, and I'm a Hastings. Punctuality is in my blood," Spencer shrugged. When Alison looked at her incredulously, Spencer sighed. "Alright, I could feel the tension coming off of you and Em from the other side of the hall."

Alison scoffed, waiting for Spencer to dig her keys out of her purse and unlock the car. "You could not. We were fine."

Headlights flashed on the silver car as Spencer finally retrieved her keys from her stunningly unorganized and overcrowded purse. Spencer Hastings had many talents, and that included the sheer number of different flavoured packets of gum she could keep within a small brown purse.

"We have vastly different definitions of fine," Spencer retorted as they entered the car.

They drove off in silence, the only sound being the dull music that Spencer unfathomably enjoyed. Alison, finally left to think, mulled over the recent conversation with Emily. The more she thought about it, the more she wished she'd just kept walking when Emily had said her name. It had been _five years_ since Alison had seen or spoken to her former love, and in those five years she'd managed to build a life with her beautiful daughter and the amazing support of her friends. Even if she hadn't managed a stable love life in that time, she had moved on from Emily. Sure, she'd taken quite a lot of time to mourn the lost chance at a relationship and the direction her life had come to lack, but that was in the past. So far in the past, in fact, that Alison hardly recognized the woman who spent her nights in slummy bars with shady men. Yet now, after having come face to face with Emily, she felt the urge for alcohol creep up on her again.

"Ali?" Spencer's voice broke her from her thoughts, and she turned to see Spencer casting concerned glances between her and the road. Alison wondered how long Spencer had been trying to get her attention for. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Alison replied dully, casting her gaze down towards her feet, which were growing increasingly sore from the heels she couldn't wait to part with.

"Clearly," Spencer's tone was sardonic and she sounded as if she wanted to question Alison more, but the blonde turned to look out the window as they drove, making it clear that she was not in the mood for conversation.

They drove in silence once more, and Alison let her mind wander as she stared out the window and watched the passing of tall buildings lining the street. When they came to a brief stop at a red light, she watched disinterestedly as a group of crows picked at the carcass of an unrecognizable animal, fighting senselessly at the small bit of food. Raising her gaze from the gory scene, her eyes lingered on a specific building, which had _Lenny's_ written in lights across it and the faint shuffling of drunk patrons inside. She remembered a time when she'd frequented the place nearly every night, and tore her gaze from the window, urging the red light to turn green once more.

"Are you visiting Charlotte tonight?" Spencer asked when she'd grown tired of the silence and, apparently, her own music.

Alison still was hardly in the mood to talk, but she was grateful that Spencer at least wasn't pushing the subject of Emily. She sighed, glancing in the brunette's direction. "Not tonight."

Spencer arched an eyebrow, but didn't tear her gaze from the hectic street in front of her. "You promised her," she reminded her.

A few years ago, even the mention of Alison's sister would cause Spencer to wince. She didn't blame her, though. She didn't blame any of her friends; what Charlotte had done to them was horrible. However, over time she'd convinced Spencer and Aria to come with her on occasional visits to the facility Charlotte had been transferred to, and even Hanna had joined them once. Of course, the visits had been tense and uncomfortable for all parties, but over time they had been able to talk and while Alison was sure that her friends would never totally forgive their former stalker, they'd at least come to somewhat of an understanding. Caring for Charlotte and aiding in her recovery had been difficult and stressful for Alison, and she was incredibly proud of how far the girls had come in dealing with their high school traumas just to help Alison.

"I know," Alison muttered. Because of the time she spent on extracurricular events with her students, marking, and of course her daughter, visits with Charlotte had grown somewhat more sparse over time. This hadn't been a big issue because of how well Charlotte had been recovering, but Alison knew how much her sister looked forward to her visits. "I'm not feeling well," Alison settled on as an excuse. She didn't need to look at Spencer to see the brunette's incredulous expression.

They made a brief stop at Lily's babysitter's house and drove off again. This time, however, the silence was filled by her four year-old, who was currently babbling cheerfully about all the things she did with her babysitter, Tanya, and Tanya's five year-old son Kyle. Parts of her daughter's stories were nonsensical; the small blonde was using a mixture of English and her own made-up words to fill the voids in her speech which would have held words if they had been part of her limited vocabulary. Occasionally, Alison would intervene and ask questions such as what flavour of ice cream she'd had or which board game had been the most fun. Alison may be new to this whole parenting thing, but if there was one thing she knew for sure, she was never going to let Lily feel as if her mother didn't care or was ignoring her. She was not going to be the parent that Kenneth and Jessica had been.

Lily's storytelling came to an end as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, and Alison found herself immensely grateful to be back home with her daughter. As much as seeing Emily had taken its toll on her, having her daughter around her always managed to brighten her mood.

As the trio entered their apartment, Alison flipped the light switch on and briefly inhaled the familiar scent of home, which was slightly sweeter than usual thanks to the new lavender candles Spencer had bought the other day. Lily, apparently exhausted by her trip to the babysitter's and excited storytelling in the car walked tiredly beside Spencer, who had slowed her pace so the tiny blonde could keep up.

"Coffee?" Alison asked, throwing her purse onto the counter. She had a ton of marking to do, and figured she'd need the caffeine if she had any hope of finding the motivation to get it done.

Spencer was following Lily in the direction of the young girl's room, presumably to read her a story as Lily often begged the brunette to do. Sometimes Alison would sit in or their storytime, even if it was to hear Spencer recite Snow White for the hundredth time. She was well aware that Spencer could probably recite the story without the need for a book at this point, but the pair had just as much fun with the illustrations in the storybook as they did with the actual story.

"Not if you're making it," Spencer quipped with a smirk. It had been a pointless offer; all of the caffeine in the world wasn't enough when it came to Spencer's coffee, so the two always had to brew theirs separately or Alison risked not sleeping for a week. Aria had even begun to theorize that the main ingredient in Spencer's coffee was Red Bull.

Lily, having seemingly gained a bit of her energy back, squeaked excitedly and rushed from her room to pull Spencer away from the kitchen so that they could begin storytime. Alison chuckled as she watched, glad to have Spencer as well as her other friends as a part of her and Lily's life.

When her coffee was made, she poured herself a large cup, knowing she was going to need every drop of it if she wanted to finish her work. She sat down at her desk, leaning back into the leathery chair. She closed her eyes the moment she spotted the stack of papers she needed to mark and rubbed at her temples as the beginning of a headache approached. Reaching for the first essay, written in messy script of the topic of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , she willed her mind to focus on what she was sure was a riveting exploration into the depth of Atticus Finch.

Ten minutes passed and Alison hadn't even made it past the the introductory paragraph of the first essay. Groaning defeatedly, she set down the pen she hadn't even noticed she'd been occasionally chewing on and buried her face in her hands because she could _not_ stop thinking about Emily. At least in the company of Spencer and Lily she'd been able to focus on them and the cheerful chatter of her daughter. Yet now, with only the muffled sound of Spencer's voice through Lily's bedroom wall to distract her, she was alone with her thoughts, which for the first time in years, were relentlessly assaulted by Emily. Her gentle features and flawless skin and soft, dark hair and sweet voice and _dammit_ why did she have to come back and screw up Alison's life again? Hadn't her rejection been enough?

Squeezing her eyes shut again at the feeling of her headache growing worse, she concluded that she wasn't getting anything done tonight and stood up from her desk. Picking her purse up from the counter she pushed her items around in the search for her keys, oblivious to Spencer, who now stood just outside of Lily's bedroom and watched her curiously.

"Going somewhere?" Alison jumped a bit at the sudden voice, but composed herself easily; something that came with long years of practice.

"I'm getting groceries," she lied easily. "Do you need anything?"

"Isn't it a bit late for groceries?" Spencer instigated. "Besides, you're kind of overdressed."

Alison shrugged, finally retrieving her keys and throwing her jacket over the dress she'd forgotten to change out of. "I'm just grabbing milk. Could you watch Lily for me?"

Spencer nodded slowly, and without waiting for further interrogation she slipped out the door and into the dimly lit hallway. When she reached her car, she momentarily considered turning around and going back inside. She knew she should; sleeping off her unwanted thoughts was her best option, and yet she still got into the driver's seat, still started her car, and still pulled out of the lot.

She actually did go in the direction of the grocery store at first. In all honesty, she really had no idea whether she needed milk at all, but resolved to pick some up on the way home regardless. She just needed to drive, with the radio's volume high enough that she couldn't hear her own thoughts. She didn't particularly like the music playing, but anything was better than losing her mind wondering what could have been if Emily had chosen her, and how she could win the swimmer back.

It was a long twenty minutes of driving. She paid little mind to speed limits and drove as she pleased, eventually resolving to finally turn home and sleep it off. Yet, just as the decision crossed her mind, she saw it. _Lenny's_ flashed in bright yellow lights, though the 'e' was dimmer, and would probably appear obsolete in a few days time. Though every part of her screamed to keep driving, she pulled over, continuing to drown her sensical thoughts out with the music, and wiped away a few shed tears she didn't even remember before stepping out of the car, slipping a few coins into the parking meter, and heading inside.

It was precisely how she'd remembered it. Dim lights barely illuminated the small bar, which smelled of low-quality beer and rum. A few pervy men harassed a group of very uncomfortable-looking twenty-somethings, and once couple was drunkenly making out in the corner as if they didn't even notice they were in a public space. She half-expected them to go all the way right there in front of everyone.

Taking a seat at the same barstool she had always taken five years ago, the momentary sense of discomfort she'd felt upon entering suddenly dissipated. It was just like old times, and she fell back into the routine of relaxing into the alcohol, feeling the first drink she ordered warm her insides and, with each drink, that image of Emily which lingered in her mind seemed to grow fuzzier.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and knew without checking that it was Spencer, undoubtedly worried about her and she was certain that if she didn't reply within ten minutes, she'd soon receive a flurry of at least twenty more texts.

She looked up when a man who looked just a few years older than her took a seat in the stool directly to her right. He was relatively attractive, he figured. His eyes were a bit bloodshot and he looked as if he was a few days overdue for a shave, and perhaps a haircut, unless he preferred the shaggy haired look. Either way, Alison was tipsy enough now that she didn't really mind. The man flashed her a smile that on any other day would have made her skin crawl, but now she just found curious.

"Could I interest a beautiful young lady in a drink?" He asked. It wasn't smooth, and it certainly wasn't charming. His voice was raspy and Alison figured he'd probably been smoking something when the scent of his breath hit her nose.

She considered his words for a moment, studying the man before her. He wasn't her usual type at all. He didn't seem sweet, or gentle, or caring. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would ever call you back, or the kind of guy who would ever take you out to dinner. But he did have one redeeming quality. He wasn't Emily, not at all, and that was more than enough for Alison.

She flashed him a grin of her own, tilting her head and speaking in a purr. "Tequila?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Slightly shorter chapter this time, but I promise the next one will have loads of fun (and tense) Emison, so get ready! I hope you enjoy, and follows, favourites, and reviews are always appreciated :) Thanks for reading!**

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" _Seriously,_ Ali? What the hell were you thinking?"

Alison didn't meet Spencer's eyes. The fuming brunette, though more of a sister to Ali than a parent in every way, somehow had the capability to make her feel that way one did when their mom wasn't angry, just very disappointed.

Having returned home in the ungodly early hours of the morning, Alison had assumed she'd be able to slip in and reach her bedroom without waking Spencer. However, upon opening their front door she'd been met with her _very_ angry roommate, sipping at a mug of tea with her feet up on the couch like a mother who knew their kid had snuck off to a party, and was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to punish them the moment they stepped back inside.

Spencer would make a fantastic mother some day.

Alison leaned back on the couch opposite from Spencer, who had now finished her tea and left the empty mug to rest on their floral-decorated coaster. Crossing her arms over her chest, she bit back a sigh and began to tune Spencer out. They had to be at least twenty minute into her lecture and at this point Spencer was just rehashing for the third time what an idiot Alison was. They should have saved the lecture for morning, considering Alison's brain was still a bit too buzzed to focus, even if her last drink had been a few hours ago.

At this point, she was beginning to regret leaving Ryan's house. Ryan, the sleazy man who'd bought her a total of four shots at Lenny's before deciding her tipsy enough to sleep with, had been a good distraction, but hardly someone she cared to see again. Sleeping with him had been a drunken haze, blurred by alcohol and the emotions she needed him to help her forget, and she'd probably forget the whole encounter by morning anyways. The sex hadn't been entirely bad; unemotional and sloppy, maybe, but it'd given her a whole hour to keep Emily out of her head, because she definitely _didn't_ wish that it had been the gorgeous swimmer trying to convince her to stay the night, instead of a shaggy-haired drunk. He'd been half asleep by the time they'd finished, and she did consider staying, but concern for her daughter nagged at the back of her mind and the apartment reeked of pot, so she'd left without even bothering to bid her now-sleeping one night stand goodnight.

She was beginning to regret that decision. The scent of pot and a scruffy, snoring man was starting to sound a lot more appealing than one of Spencer's lectures. Alison's eyes were trained on her roommate, and though she couldn't seem to manage to listen to the words she was saying, she did notice the creasing of her brow when she got to what must have been an exceptionally important point, as well as the way her fist clenched and she rolled her eyes when she came to the realization that Alison wasn't paying attention. Apparently, her bleak stare and occasional nods hadn't been enough to convince Spencer.

Letting out a sigh and probably counting down from ten in her head, Spencer stood up in defeat. "Let's just go to bed," she muttered. "We both have work tomorrow."

Alison didn't argue, and though she felt tired enough to contemplate just sleeping on the couch, she managed to get up and trudged sleepily back to her room, almost falling asleep on the way. She passed her daughter's room, able to briefly glance inside as Lily had never felt compelled to close her door at night. She quietly observed the soft glow of the nightlight positioned next to her bed; a small butterfly-shaped light which illuminated the room with its gentle blue radiance. Her daughter slept soundly beneath thin purple sheets, her messy blonde hair splayed out over the pillows and soft snores just barely audible from where Alison stood. She smiled a bit to herself at the peaceful scene, but the smile was gone as soon as it came when a pang of guilt sunk her heart. She'd retreated back to the pathetic version of herself she'd been five years ago just because of a brief encounter with someone who no longer even mattered. She'd promised herself the moment she had found out about her pregnancy that her depressed state was to be left in the past, and that she was going to be the best possible version of herself for her daughter. She suddenly felt dirty; she'd broken the silent vow she'd made to Lily and felt as if every part of her touched by Ryan and the alcohol was tainted, corroded back to the person she'd been in her time of weakness. The person who was in no way fit to be Lily's mother.

Leaving behind the serene sight of her peacefully sleeping daughter, Alison finished the brief walk to her room and stripped herself of the dress she still hadn't taken off. She felt the urge to throw it out, or better yet burn it, but settled for throwing it in the laundry basket before moving to put on fleece pajamas that probably didn't match. She then crawled into bed, settling onto her side facing the window and glanced out at the streets of New York through the curtains that were only partially covering the outside world. It was about as calm as it got, for the city at least, with only the occasional sound of cars passing by to let her know that there was still a living world outside of her walls.

She was grateful that at least sleep overtook her before thoughts of the beautiful brunette invaded her mind once more, and was even more grateful for a dreamless slumber.

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"You look terrible," Spencer commented bluntly as Alison entered the kitchen.

"Thanks." Alison shot her a glare, but it was half-hearted and unintimidating because the brunette was entirely right. Even with the lengths she'd gone to to cover up exactly how hungover she looked, Alison felt like a mess and her appearance only reflected it.

"Here," Spencer said, passing her a cup of coffee. Alison eyed it warily, well aware of the strength of any coffee made by a Hastings, but sipped at it anyways. Besides, she'd probably need the extra energy.

"Can you drop Lily off at the bus stop today?" Alison asked as she reached up to dig a bottle of aspirin out of the cupboard. "I have to go in early for a meeting."

Spencer nodded, already having finished her first cup of coffee and now pouring herself a second. "They're going to know you're hungover," she said.

"The vice principal comes in hungover every day anyways," she shrugged, setting her cup back down and moving to grab her purse off of the counter. She slung it over her shoulder and was about to turn towards the door when Spencer's hand on her arm stopped her. Alison turned back to her, eyeing the brunette quizzically.

"Next time you feel like drinking, tell me, alright? Lily needs you; you can't go back to that. You've got Aria, Han, and I now; you don't have to deal with this alone."

Alison's eyes grew a bit misty as she smiled warmly at her friend. Spencer was right, when Emily had chosen Paige she'd felt utterly alone and because of that she'd had to turn to alcohol and sex with strangers for support. Now, though, she had her friends, and most importantly she had Lily, and though Emily had caused her so much pain all those years ago, she had a life now, and Emily couldn't take that from her too.

Spencer pulled Alison into a hug, Alison returned the embrace for a few moments before pulling back, knowing she'd be late if she didn't leave soon.

"Thank you, Spence. Seriously."

Spencer smiled back at her, sipping at her coffee. "Get to class," she said warmly.

Alison turned and left, smiling to herself with the knowledge that last night was the last time she was going to succumb to her lingering pain. She had a life now and people who cared about her, and that was more than enough to keep her going.

When she started her car, Alison jumped in surprise as the music blared harshly at its highest volume through her speakers. She immediately turned it down to a more bearable level, a switched the station to one that was playing an unfamiliar, but pleasant bubblegum-pop sort of song. By the time the third verse came around, identical in tune and probably in lyrics to the first two, Alison had picked up on the melody and was humming along as she drove despite the lingering unpleasantness of a very slowly receding hangover.

Alison pulled into the driveway of the high school at last, parking her car before pulling her phone from her pocket. It displayed one text message, sent by Spencer, informing her that Lily had been taken to the bus station. She quickly texted back her thanks before exiting her car and crossing the almost desolate parking lot towards the entrance.

The inside of Monroe High never failed to evoke memories of Rosewood. While the school itself was plentiful in differences from her childhood school, much larger in size as well as having a far more modern structure, something about the atmosphere of the building gave her sensations of nostalgia that once made her uneasy, but she now found comfortable. Knowing she still had about twenty minutes before the meeting, she made her way through the winding hallways to her classroom. Setting her purse down and the foot of her desk, she took a moment to sweep her eyes distastefully over the messy space. It was littered with recently submitted assignments and lesson plans, and the only thing proving that it wasn't just a massive mound of paper was the small photo of Lily she kept on the left-hand corner. She didn't have a lot of personal items on her desk, knowing that the other English teacher taught a class in the room in fourth period, but she kept the photo of Lily there as she found it calming during her more stressful days. And, when teaching a rowdy group of eleventh graders, just about every day was stressful.

Of course, it wasn't that she didn't enjoy her job. In fact, she loved it, and aside from spending time with her daughter, coming to work was the highlight of her day. Due to Mona and Charlotte, Alison's high school experience was limited, and teaching allowed her to relive the experience through her students as well as feel comfortable in the environment without having a queen bee status to live up to. She loved working with the students as well, and had found an unexpected passion for preparing them for their futures. Though she'd spent most of her own high school experience tearing others down to remain on top, she found that it felt nice to help build them up instead.

Lost in her thoughts, she began to write the lesson plan for her first period class on the chalkboard. She enjoyed the mornings at the school, before most of the staff had come in and long before the students. She might have found an empty high school unnerving at a teenager, and for good reason, but now she just found it peaceful.

She hadn't heard the sound of footsteps or even noticed the presence behind her, but the sound of someone clearing their throat alerted her to the fact that someone had entered the classroom. She finished writing the last word of the class' outline before turning to face her visitor.

"Emily?"

Seeing the brunette at the wedding hall had been difficult, but at least she'd known that Emily was going to be there and had time to psych herself up. Yet now, unexpectedly witnessing her standing awkwardly in her doorway, she felt like she'd been punched in the gut.

"Alison? I- sorry, I didn't know you worked here. I'll just-" she moved as if to exit the room, but Alison's voice stopped her.

"Is that a resume?" she asked as her eyes flitted downwards to the small pile of papers she held in hand.

Emily nodded and Alison narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Emily had built an incredible life in California with Paige, so why would she be bringing her resume to a small high school in New York?

"My dad… He died recently," Emily spoke slowly and quietly, and Alison made no move to interrupt. "My mom won't admit it, but I think she really needs me around right now, so I figured I'd at least get a job while I'm here."

"I'm so sorry, Em." Alison was amazed by how quickly she'd slipped back into the familiar shortening of Emily's name, but couldn't help the surge of empathy she felt for the brunette. Alison had known how close Emily had been to her father. A small, selfish part of her was angry when she felt the slight urge to move to hug the brunette in comfort, but chalked it up to simply being an empathetic person and shoved the thought aside.

Emily just shrugged. "It is what it is," she murmured. Emily had always been one of the most hopeful and optimistic people Alison knew, and she found that it hurt to see the brunette now look so distraught and defeated.

They stood for a few moments in a silence that wasn't awkward, but wasn't quite comfortable either. Perhaps Alison would describe it as familiar; they'd spent a lot of time together as teenagers in silence, content without words and not not feeling the need to speak. While she wasn't sure that she could ever have that with Emily again, she just figured old habits really did die hard.

"Do you think you could tell me where the principal's office is? I've been looking for almost twenty minutes but this place is like a maze," Emily said after a while.

Alison let out a small chuckle despite herself; apparently shy, awkward Emily hadn't totally vanished. "Go all the way to the end of the hall and turn left," she replied, punctuating her directions with gestures.

Emily gave a small smile. "Thanks," she said, and turned to exit before stopping herself once again.

"Are we still on for those drinks?" she asked, seeming a bit anxious. "Honestly, I could probably use one tonight."

Alison considered this for a moment, and while her better judgement screamed against it she realized that she did want to get drinks with Emily. It would be a horrible decision, she knew, and she'd regret it immediately afterwards, but just as she'd felt during the wedding reception, now that she was in Emily's company she didn't want it to end. She found herself wondering how she could feel so content, if not a bit nervous in the brunette's company, but then feel like she'd been hit with a ton of bricks the moment she left and had to face the reality of the situation; Emily was with Paige. Emily had chosen Paige, not her.

"No drinking on school nights," Alison replied, surprising herself at her playful tone. Despite the anxiety coursing through her body, it still felt so _easy_ to be herself around the woman she'd hadn't known for five years. "Maybe coffee instead?"

If Emily knew that Alison was hungover, and based on Alison's sloppy appearance she figured the brunette had guessed it by now, she didn't point it out. Instead, she seemed to brighten up a bit, and Alison couldn't help smiling internally at the knowledge that, for the first time in years, she'd been the cause of the brunette's smile.

"Coffee sounds great," Emily said.

Alison nodded and glanced up at the clock, noticing that she was already five minutes late for the meeting and bracing herself for the lecture she knew she was going to receive.

"Meet me at the coffee shop down the street at five," Alison said, not bothering to ask if the time worked for Emily as that shrinking part of her mind that was her better judgement was hoping that Emily wouldn't be able to make it.

However, to what may or may not have been her dismay, Emily agreed and both women exited the classroom, turning in opposite directions in the hall to go about their days.

The day progressed slowly as soon as she was out of the brunette's company, and Alison found herself glancing in the direction of the clock several times during each of her classes, often dragging out her lessons because she found that as soon as she sat back at her desk to get some work done, her mind was flooded with thoughts of Emily and the effect that she somehow still had over her.

As she sat in her fourth period class, observing as her students each made slow progress on the poetry assignment while those in the back whispered words she couldn't quite make out among one another, she glanced up at the clock again to find that it hadn't been more than five minutes since the last time she checked.

With a quiet sigh, she leaned back in her chair. She'd been continuously checking the clock all day, but realized now that it was pointless, because she had no idea whether she was hoping the day would end soon or praying that the final bell would never ring.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, you all have every right to be angry at me for the delay! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, but my life has been chaotic lately and Marlene has been so stingy with the Emison this season that I've had a hard time getting inspired. Thank you all for your patience, I should be back on a steady uploading schedule after this :)**

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"Wait, so you're _actually_ doing this?"

Alison sighed, realizing exactly how bad an idea this was now that she was hearing it from Aria. The blonde's final class had ended an hour ago, and after managing to kill another half hour marking everything in sight and drawing up lesson plans for the rest of the week, she now found herself sitting in her car in the school parking lot.

"Apparently," Alison muttered into her phone after a few moments of contemplative silence. For once, the usually chatty woman on the other end of the line didn't seem to know what to say, and in the few brief moments without speech, Alison somehow managed to mull over every way getting coffee with Emily could go wrong. Possible scenarios went from the meeting ending in tears to the throwing of tables to kissing and making up- literally. She wasn't sure which of those would be worse. "This is such a bad idea, isn't it?"

"Probably," Aria replied bluntly, before seeming to think better of it. "Maybe it'll be good for you two, though. The five of us haven't been able to get together in one place since we lived under Charlotte's reign in Rosewood."

 _Rosewood._ The small suburban town laced with memories that haunted Alison. The place she vowed she'd never return to because there was just no way she could handle it. She knew the moment she entered the hellish town within which she'd once been trapped and stalked she'd be faced with reminders of everything she'd done in her youth. She knew she'd see Wilden, she knew she'd see Shana, she knew she'd see her mother.

The sound of someone calling Aria's name on the other end of the line brought her out of her recollections.

"I've got to go," Aria said shortly after, and something made a loud screeching sound like a chair sliding against a laminate floor. "Good luck with Em. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

After verbalizing her agreement and a brief goodbye, Alison ended the call and returned her phone to the leather purse resting in the passenger's seat. She glanced up at the time, just above where her car radio softly emitted the sound of a slow ballad and saw that she had only fifteen minutes before she was expected to meet Emily. Of course, knowing the other woman's habits when it came to punctuality, she figured she had at least twenty minutes. After a moment, though, she began to rethink that assumption. Alison hadn't known Emily since high school, and she found herself wondering whether her habits had changed. _Probably not,_ she thought, and the ghost of a soft smile played at the corner of her mouth.

Alison glanced up at the clock again to see that a mere minute had passed and sighed loudly, annoyed with herself for the unnecessary anxiety she was feeling. She'd known Emily Fields for almost as long as she could remember, and it had always been that Emily was the anxious one in the presence of the domineering blonde. Alison didn't often feel nostalgic about her past, but if there was one thing she wouldn't mind feeling again, it was the sense of calmness and security Emily never failed to bring with her. Of course, that was long ago. A time before Mona, before Charlotte, before _Lily._ Alison was over it, and Lily was all she needed now.

There was a brief moment in which she considered calling Spencer. The lobbyist always knew what to say in these sorts of situations, and since for whatever reason Alison couldn't bring herself to drive out of the parking lot, she figured Spencer's advice, while sometimes a bit condescending and annoyingly metaphorical, couldn't hurt. However, Spencer was at work and would be until later that evening, long after Alison grabbed coffee with Emily. Alison knew how Spencer felt about being interrupted during work, she'd learned her lesson the first time and knew she would be risking the official introduction of the chore wheel if Spencer was particularly busy. It wasn't worth it, she decided quickly. There was no way she was getting stuck with their insane amount of laundry every week.

With a final deep breath and a muttered "what's the worst that can happen?", Alison finally brought her hands to the steering wheel and pulled out of the parking lot, with only ten minutes until she was expected to meet but confident that despite any traffic she'd be able to make it to the coffee shop in time. Luckily there was minimal traffic, and she managed to pull up outside of the cosy-looking cafe a decent three minutes before five o'clock. Slinging her purse over one shoulder, she inserted a couple of quarters into the nearby parking metre and made her way inside.

She inhaled the warm scent of coffee and pastries as she entered, locating a table next to a window facing the street and sitting down. She glanced around, wondering if she should wait for Emily before ordering, and studied the comfortable scenery in an attempt to occupy her mind during the wait.

Despite her fondness for the quaint shop, it was hardly a place that she frequented, though her slight avoidance had no clear reason. Perhaps it was the way it bore the slightest resemblance to The Brew, the coffee shop she and her friends had spent a great deal of time at in Rosewood. They were similar not so much in sight, this one was notably smaller and had more of a rural cabin theme to it, but in the warm scent and soft chattering of people, mainly teenagers, as they went over notes before a test or attempted to lessen the awkwardness of an already awkward first date. Visually, the shop wasn't much to look at, but Alison somewhat preferred it that way. It was rather plain, save for the few flowers sat in vases placed around the shop and the pretty lantern-esque lights hanging from the ceiling designed in architecture to resemble the inside of a log cabin. There was a fireplace, most likely electronic, sat in the far end of the shop surrounded by a group of three dark red polyester couches and a small wooden coffee table with a transparent glass pane in the middle of it. She could see rings in the glass from where drinks had previously sat on the glass, and figured they should get some coasters.

Admittedly, Alison felt a bit smug when she learned that, as predicted, Emily was ten minutes late. Looking up from where she studied the false flames of the fireplace across the shop, she was alerted by the soft chime of a bell to Emily's presence. The brunette scanned the shop briefly before locating Alison, and crossed over floors that were meant to look wooden but were more likely tile, before sitting down across from the blonde.

"Sorry I'm late," came the unnecessary apology, because poor punctuality was simply a part of Emily's personality and Alison had long accepted that. She was, however, intrigued by the lack of an excuse for her lateness. As teenagers, Emily's punctuality was hardly any better, but she always had a reason for her lateness whether it was true or not. However, now, she simply removed the light jacket she'd had on and set her own purse aside on the windowsill next to her chair, her lateness already forgotten.

After reassuring the brunette that her lateness wasn't an issue, Alison noticed the way Emily leaned back into her wooden seat and the tired look in her eyes. She somehow looked even more exhausted than Alison felt, and considering it was the blonde who'd spent her day amongst hormonal teenagers and a particularly irritable teaching staff, she figured Emily's day must have been particularly rough.

"Everything alright?" Alison asked when Emily's phone vibrated twice in her pocket, earning an eyeroll and a sigh from the brunette when it quieted.

"Fine, just-" Emily was interrupted by her own phone vibrating once again, a longer tone this time indicating a phone call rather than a text message. "Sorry," she sighed, moving to decline the call.

Alison reached across the table, stopping Emily from pressing the red button on her phone with a hand on the brunette's wrist. She'd moved before even realizing what she was doing, and immediately pulled her hand back. "Take the call, I'll get the coffee," she said, attempting to pretend as if her gesture hadn't occurred.

Emily looked reluctant and for a moment Alison thought she was going to decline the call anyways, but her thumb moved across to accept it and she held the phone up to her ear, casting an apologetic glance in Alison's direction. Alison just shrugged, scooting backwards in her chair with a slight wince at the screeching sound it made against the tile floor before standing up to get in line behind two teenagers and an older woman leaning on a cane.

A small tune of about five or six notes was emitted from Alison's phone and she pulled it out of her pocket, realizing she'd forgotten to set it to vibrate and doing so before checking the text from Spencer.

 **How's it going?**

Alison thought for a moment before responding because she wasn't entirely sure how it was going. Glancing behind her, she saw Emily speaking heatedly into the phone as if she were working very hard to keep her voice at a regular volume. Her brow was furrowed and hand gestures appeared to be her substitute for yelling. Turning back to her own screen, she quickly typed out a response.

 **Fine… I think.**

Shoving it back into her pocket, Alison felt it vibrate again moments later but ignored it as she stepped up to order. It hit her, then, as the cashier requested her order that she had forgotten to ask what Emily wanted. She placed the brief order of a mocha latte, not her usual but something she'd been craving all day, and paused to think about what to get for Emily. Not wanting to interrupt what appeared to be quite the heated conversation, she refrained from going to ask Emily and ordered her an americano, hoping that somehow Emily had kept her usual the same after all these years.

After retrieving their coffees from the counter, Alison made her way back towards their table only to see that Emily was still on the phone, and from the sound of her voice, things were far from resolved. Alison, not wanting to interrupt and _maybe_ just a bit curious stopped walking and stood a few feet from Emily. She was behind the other woman and thus unnoticed, but stood close enough now that she could make out what the brunette was saying rather than just how she was saying it.

"I just don't know what you want me to do, Paige!" Emily sighed, sounding defeated but with annoyance still clear in her tone. "I can't just leave, I-" her voice cut off abruptly, as if the person on the other end of the line had cut her off mid sentence.

Alison felt suddenly uncomfortable now that she knew she was listening in on a conversation between Emily and Paige. Of course, her discomfort stemmed merely from the fact that she was spying on a conversation between two people in a relationship, and it had nothing to do with the fact that it was her former love and one of her many former enemies. She'd moved on from that, from both of them. No hard feelings. The past was in the past.

"Paige, I _do_ love you. You know I do," Alison gripped the americano in her left hand hard enough that it wouldn't surprise her if it suddenly burst and melted her hand off. She reminded herself yet again that she'd moved on before Emily spoke again. "But my mom needs me right now, don't you understand that?"

There was a brief pause, and presumably Paige was speaking, but it was only moments before Emily's voice came again, somehow more livid than before.

"How can you even say that?" She hissed, and it seemed she was trying desperately to keep from shouting. "Look, I _know_ it's been hard on you but do you have any idea what it's been like for me? I-" Apparently, she'd been cut off again. Alison concluded that Paige had rather poor phone call etiquette.

Paige's end of the conversation was lengthier this time around and even from where she stood she could hear that, unlike Emily, Paige was making no effort to refrain from yelling. There was an unpleasant feeling bubbling in her stomach at the sound of Paige shouting at a fuming Emily and Alison decided she'd had enough of this. Unrooting her legs from where they'd firmly stood for the past few minutes, she continued her walk back to the table, catching Emily's attention at last as she sat down. Something flashed in the brunette's eyes and this time it was she who cut Paige off.

"Look, Paige, I've gotta go. We'll talk later, alright?" She didn't appear to wait for an agreement before hanging up, returning her phone to the pocket of her jeans with slightly more force than was necessary.

"Trouble in paradise?" Alison snarked, and was surprised by her own voice. Pleasantly surprised, of course. She'd quickly grown tired of being anxious and reclusive around her ex-love and much preferred haughty Alison to depressed, shy Alison.

"You could say that," Emily replied, seemingly unfazed by Alison's tone as she reached across to retrieve her americano. Sipping it, a smile ghosted her lips and she met Alison's eyes for the first time since the blonde had sat down. "Americano?" she asked.

"I forgot to ask what you wanted," Alison shrugged. "So I took my best guess."

"I like it," Emily commented. "I haven't had one since we all left Rosewood."

A tense silence fell over them momentarily as their teenage years enveloped them like a harsh, torn-up blanket. All five of them were scarred, left with wounds that would never truly heal because of what they'd gone through. From the look on Emily's face, it would appear that she regretted the comment.

"I got the job," Emily said at last, filling Alison with relief at the dissipation of the tense silence before realization of what she'd said hit her.

"Congratulations," Alison smiled, ignoring the way it felt a bit forced and a feeling of unease settled in her stomach. "Swim coach?"

"Am I that predictable?" Emily joked. "But yeah, just 'til the end of the semester."

It seemed a bit odd to hire a replacement with less than a month left of the semester. Coach Attersley, a petite woman with a mop of blonde hair, gentle brown eyes, and rosy cheeks had begun her maternity leave just last week. Alison had figured the principal would just cancel the remaining swim meets, there couldn't be more than five at the most, but apparently the school took more pride in its swim team than she'd thought.

Emily looked as if she were about to speak again, but stopped at the sound of Alison's phone vibrating in her pocket.

"Next time we should both just leave our phones at home," Alison joked, and Emily nodded her head in agreement.

Retrieving her phone from her pocket, she opened the latest text from Lily's babysitter and her eyes widened in alarm.

 **Lily's sick, are you able to pick her up early? She keeps asking for you.**

Alison texted a response with unsteady fingers to indicate that she was on her way before looking up at her company across the table. There was a look of worry in Emily's eyes that mirrored Alison's own, and when Alison stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder, the brunette got up as well.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"My daughter's sick," Alison said. "Raincheck?"

Emily didn't comment on the lack of an apology for her early leave or the fact that Alison hadn't even touched her coffee during their encounter and was now leaving it stranded on the table. She did, however, marvel for a moment at the protective gleam in Alison's eyes and the way she so quickly jumped into action for her daughter. In their teenage years, Emily never would have described the blonde as motherly. However, now she couldn't think of someone who could possibly have more love and concern in their eyes than Alison.

"Go make sure she's okay," Emily smiled softly. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

Alison nodded and with that she was out the door, into her car, and driving off into the evening without a care in the world for the rules of the road.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay I know it's been four years, and I'm really sorry about the delay. I don't really have any excuse aside from my lack of motivation, which is understandable I think since Marlene hasn't exactly been generous with the Emison scenes lately :P But! I just watched the newest episode and the actual Emison scenes in it put me in an Emison mood so I whipped this up on a spur of motivation. I hope you all enjoy, and sorry in advance for any mistakes, as for whatever reason I decided 2 a.m. was a decent time to write and I'm dead tired. Follows, favourites, and reviews are always appreciated 3**

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At the heart-wrenching sound of retching, Alison was awake for what must have been the tenth time that night. She groans quietly at the disturbance, opening her left eye first and allowing it to adjust to the blue light illuminating the room whose source was a cartoonish elephant nightlight. Her right eye followed and the world around her became clear, the most prevalent sight her own daughter, who was leaning over the side of her bed and vomiting into the waste bin beside it. A pang of empathy made her chest constrict and she leaned across her daughter's twin bed, though the mattress was tiny enough that not much leaning was necessary, and rubbed light circles soothingly into her daughter's back.

When Lily had appeared to have finished vomiting, she leaned back into the bed with a whimper. Alison rolled out of the bed with a grunt a few moments later when her daughter had settled herself, scrunching up her nose at the scent of Lily's vomit and trying not to gag as she picked up the waste bin to bring it to the washroom and clean it out.

Adorned with rubber gloves and a mask, she rid the pail of the vomit inside and when she was certain that it no longer emitted the odour it once had, she removed her gloves and fled the now unpleasant smelling washroom.

"How's she doing?" Spencer asked, startling Alison as she crossed the hall towards Lily's room.

The brunette looked almost as tired as she, and with her room being right beside Lily's Alison wondered if the retching had woken her up as well. However, she had a cup of tea in hand held between hands buried beneath her oversized white nightgown, and the lack of steam being emitted from the lukewarm beverage indicated that she'd probably been up for a while.

"Miserable," Alison answered, her voice raspy with sleep.

Spencer nodded sympathetically, "poor thing."

There was a beat of silence followed by a small cry of Alison's name from her daughter, and Alison turned away from Spencer. Re-entering Lily's room, Alison saw Lily's tiny form huddled up beneath three heavy blankets and somehow still shivering. She stared up at her mother with large, miserable eyes, the paleness of her face emphasized by the glaring blue light beside her bed. Alison could feel her heart break at the sight of her daughter's misery, and as she crawled back into Lily's bed she gently pulled her close, resting Lily's head on her chest as she ran her hand through Lily's hair, matted with sweat, and whispered soothingly to her until her breathing began to even out. It would be a long night, Alison knew, with the clock only reading 2:25 a.m. and the sound of her daughter's stomach groaning in displeasure at the bug afflicting her with so much pain. None of that mattered, though, all that mattered to Alison was her daughter, and as long as she held Lily in her arms Alison couldn't care less about anything else in the world.

Alison woke hours later at the sound of her alarm blaring from her room across the hall, pleased to find that she and Lily had managed a full hour of sleep since her last vomiting. Her daughter, always the heavy sleeper, was unperturbed by her alarm and if it weren't for the sweat matting her hair and the stark contrast between her ghostly white skin and the fever flushing her cheeks, Alison might have said she looked peaceful. Sitting up in the bed, she reached across to place her hand on her daughter's damp forehead. The fever had yet to break, her daughter's forehead was sickeningly warm and Alison looked down at the sleeping figure sympathetically before getting to her feet. The waste bin was clear of vomit and Lily seemed settled for the moment, so she moved to go get dressed and ready for what was inevitably shaping up to be a long, exhausting day.

When she exited the bathroom with her makeup done to mask the dark circles beneath her eyes to the best of her ability, the clock read 6:45, leaving her just over an hour before her first class was set to begin. A moment of envy passed through her thoughts towards the teachers who hadn't any classes first period, but she then decided that work would be good to take her mind off of things.

"Could you make me a cup, Spence?" Alison asked as she entered the kitchen, finding the taller woman in her usual spot around the coffee maker.

Spencer looked a bit surprised, but nodded and proceeded to prepare Alison's cup. "Does this mean you no longer think my coffee poses risk of cardiac arrest?" Spencer asked with a smirk when she was finished, handing Alison the steaming beverage.

Alison let out a small huff of laughter. "I'm just willing to take the risk today," she retorted.

She moved past Spencer into the kitchen, popping a piece of bread into the toaster and retrieving the tub of margarine from the fridge. She much preferred butter, but Spencer insisted upon margarine and claimed that Ali wouldn't even be able to taste the difference. Contrary to the claims, Alison could, in fact, believe it's not butter.

"You look exhausted," Spencer commented.

Alison rolled her eyes, gazing boredly at the toaster as she waited for her breakfast to finish cooking. "Thanks, Spence," she quipped.

"I mean, maybe you should take the day off. You know, get some rest?"

Alison shook her head, turning to face Spencer and leaning back against the counter. "I'll be fine, Aria's already agreed to come watch Lily for the day and I can't just go missing work, my third period class needs crazy prepping if they're gonna survive exams."

Spencer snorted. "Come on, Ali, you've never taken a sick day in your life and you clearly need one. Your class will be fine for one day."

Alison's toast popped up, a bit overdone but still edible, and she proceeded to coat it in margarine.

"I appreciate the concern and all, Spencer, but I'm going to work today," Alison said in a tone strikingly similar to the one she'd used in high school when she'd determined that a conversation was absolutely not going to be continuing, "tell Aria to call me if anything happens."

Without giving Spencer time to respond, Alison retrieved her purse and was out the door with her margarine-dripping toast in hand.

The workday was long and borderline torturous, and by fifth period Alison decided that this must be what Hell was like. Not only had literally every teacher she'd come across pointed out her obvious exhaustion, as well as a few ballsy students, but she'd even forgotten the words to the prologue of Romeo and Juliet. She'd managed to inform a class of thirty-something students that the tragic love story had laid its scene in fair Virginia.

There had been no sign of Emily all day, not that she had been looking or anything, she had far more important things to worry about than the woman's whereabouts, but she found it odd. She had said she'd gotten the job, hadn't she? Her curiosity ran out quickly, for the minute she sat down in her car after the final bell had rung she fell asleep. Of course, it was only for a moment, because her head had fallen forward and hit the wheel, causing it to emit an earth-shattering honk that she didn't even have the energy to react to. After briefly considering calling a cab, Alison deemed herself fit to drive despite her doubts and, amazingly, made it home alive despite nearly giving into lazy eyelids at a particularly long red light.

She fumbled a bit trying to fit her key into the lock of her apartment, but after an embarrassing three tries she was successful and swung the door open, ready to just dive down onto the polyester couch and nap for the rest of the day.

Instead, she was met with the surprising sight of Emily, sports magazine sat in her lap, looking up at her curiously as she stepped clumsily through the door, shutting it behind her before leaning back against it.

"Emily? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Aria called, said there was an emergency so Ezra came to take her over to the hospital. I figured Lily could use a babysitter until you got back," she answered, oddly nonchalant despite being a definitely uninvited guest in her home.

"Oh my god, is she alright?" Alison asked, concern for her friend overpowering her current state of exhaustion.

"Just Braxton Hicks," Emily explained, "she'll be fine. I would've called you but I, uh, I don't have your number."

"Right…" Alison trailed off briefly, before collecting her tired mind, "how's Lily?"

"She's been asleep since I got here," Emily said, "Still has a fever, but no throwing up."

Alison nodded, setting her purse down on the coffee table in front of Emily. The other woman, looking considerably awkward now that silence had fallen, got to her feet, smiling politely.

"I guess I should probably get going."

"You can stay," Alison said, a bit too fast, "if you want, I mean. I'm just going to go nap but if you wouldn't mind checking up on Lily… Actually, no, nevermind. You have a life, I can't just ask you to drop everything and stay here and-"

Emily cut her off, eyes narrowed curiously but a sympathetic smile playing at her lips. "I can stay, for a little while at least," she said softly.

As if to punctuate that she indeed planned to stay, Emily plopped herself back down onto the couch and returned the magazine to her lap.

"Are you sure?" Alison asked, more as a formality than anything; at this point she'd do anything for a moment of sleep, "I can always call Hanna, you know, if you're busy."

"Hanna's out at dinner with Caleb, and I am sure. Really, Ali, I don't mind."

There was an odd look in Emily's eyes that was indiscernible to Alison and yet somehow vaguely familiar. Brushing it off as her tired mind messing with her, Alison nodded, smiling gratefully.

"Alright, well, the TV's in the next room but you might have to dig through the couch cushions for the remote, and there's food in the fridge if you're hungry, and if you get bored-"

"Get some sleep, Alison," Emily said.

"Right," Alison breathed, nodding again as she turned to head off in the direction of her room. She heard the quiet sound of Emily's magazine rustling a she flipped through it in search of the page she'd left off on, and she turned back to face her, watching her for a quiet moment before speaking.

"Hey, Em?" she said, quiet enough so as not to risk waking Lily.

"Yeah?" Emily replied, craning her neck to meet Alison's gaze.

"Thank you," Alison said, and Emily just nodded, smiling warmly at her.

With that, Alison made her way to her room, slid out of the uncomfortable floral dress she'd worn to work and into an oversized t-shirt adorned with an image of the Eiffel Tower and some loopy handwriting that read " _J'adore Paris"_. When she climbed into bed, kicking off pointed shoes, she was fast asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

When she woke, the apartment was quiet save for the soft hum of the television in the living room. Rubbing her eyes, Alison cast her gaze out the window, the curtains still parted, and was stunned to see the pinks and oranges of a sunset decorating the pale blue sky. She felt more like herself again, at least, no longer feeling like the world was moving at hyper-speed all around her. Energy restored, she got out of her bed, bare feet finding wool slippers and trying not to wince when she caught a glimpse of her smeared eye makeup in the mirror as she left the room.

The hum of the television grew more clear as Alison grew closer, and she was soon able to make out that it was one of those old-timey movies they had so many of. Alison had grown disinterested in them over the years, but Spencer adored them and was always coming home with new ones she found at garage sales and flea markets. She expected to see Emily seated on the couch, but was instead met with Spencer lounging across the cushions looking extremely invested in the plotline unfolding in front of her. Alison wasn't too surprised, Emily hated old movies more than anyone she knew when they lived in Rosewood, and she was pretty sure that hadn't changed with age, even if everything else seemingly had.

"Hey," Alison greeted Spencer, who moved her legs so that Alison could sit down on the couch beside her.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty," Spencer quipped, and Alison nudged her shoulder playfully with her own.

"How long was I out for?" Alison asked, absentmindedly watching the events on the TV screen.

"Six hours," Spencer answered with a hint of amusement in her voice, "Lily's fever broke about an hour ago, but she's still pretty worn out. I think the vomit part's over, at least."

Alison breathed a sigh of relief. "I think I'll go check in on her in a minute," she said, "when did Emily leave?"

"Just after I got here," Spencer answered, "I can't believe you let her stay, not to mention eat the last of our leftover chicken."

Alison shrugged, the serenity of having just woken up having not quite worn off. "Lily needed a babysitter and I needed a nap. I'm tired of holding grudges, anyways, Emily made her choice five years ago and I've moved on."

If Spencer was surprised by the confession, she had the good grace not to show it. "Good for you," she smiled, and as she turned back to the television Alison prepared to get to her speak, but the other woman spoke again before she could get up.

"Toby's engaged," she said monotonously.

Alison quirked an eyebrow, the brief urge to make a Jenna quip crossed her mind but she had the sense to keep quiet. Instead, she simply asked, "to who?"

"You don't know her," Spencer said, leaning forward to retrieve a glass of red wine from the table in front of her, "her name's Yvonne."

"Sounds like a bitch," Alison said, earning a laugh from Spencer.

"She's not, actually. She's nice, smart, funny, even if she is working for my mom's political opponent. She'll be good for him," Spencer said as if she were thinking aloud. "I'm happy for him, like genuinely happy-not that fake happy exes usually get but legitimately happy." She looked contemplative for a moment, swirling the wine around in her glass before taking another sip of it.

Somehow, the conversation felt over and Spencer returned to watching her dull 50's movie while Alison got to her feet and headed off in the direction of her daughter's room. The door was slightly ajar when she arrived; Lily rarely kept it shut. It creaked a bit when she opened it, something Spencer had been practically begging her to get fixed for months now, and when Lily stirred a bit at the noise she figured Spencer was right.

"Hey Sweetie," Alison greeted her daughter softly.

Lily rubbed at her eyes, barely awake but enough so to open her wide blue eyes and stare up at her mother. "Hi Momma." her voice was scratchy, and Alison made a mental note to pick up some lozenges next time she went out.

Alison sat down on the bed next to Lily, who curled up immediately at her mother's side. Alison looked down at her, brushing a stray lock of thin golden hair out of her daughter's face, and watched as Lily clambered on top of her to the point where she was using Alison as a bed more than the mattress itself. She smiled, patting Lily's hair gently as her daughter nuzzled into the crook of her neck, and they stayed like that for a while. Lily eventually fell back asleep, but Alison never did. Rather, she lay awake, running her hand through her daughter's mane of blonde hair and deciding that she'd never truly been happier than she had in that moment.


End file.
